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A Different Man Ch.Three
 
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Chapter Three

They circled the large building twice, pausing to peer in and listen at windows that were well shielded by bushes. After getting one too many scratches on her face, and ripping her good jacket, Buffy refused to creep behind any more thorny bushes, insisting in a low whisper that they were obviously demonic. Spike's soft chuckle and whispered "wimp" did nothing to improve her attitude.

"Fine," she hissed. "You're the one with the leather coat protecting his skin. You creep up to the next set of windows. You can hear better than I can anyway."

Leaving Buffy to crouch beside a rain barrel against the wall, Spike slipped silently between the bushes and another slightly open window. She watched him disappear into the shadows, making no sound as he brushed past the leaves, and wondered, not for the first time, how such an obviously deadly predator hadn't been able to kill her yet.

A low growl was her only warning that the vampire was once more at her side.

"Did you—" Her question was cut off when Spike's hand went across her mouth and his "shhh" hissed in her ear. When she froze, he lifted his coat over his head and pressed her back and down, effectively making them one large black shadow among other large black shadows. With luck, no one would notice the lack of twigs and leaves.

"I'm telling you, Finn, the sensors are picking up movement. Something is out here."

"Well we've done a complete circuit, and all we've found is a hungry raccoon. There's nothing else here." There was the sound of someone being thumped on the back, then Riley's voice continued. "Besides, who or what would be stupid enough to try to break into a house protected by sensors and full of armed men with bad attitudes?"

"Point," the other man admitted, as the voices moved away. "But don't forget, not that many people know we've got sensors; or that we're armed. It's not like Maggie wants it to be common knowledge."

Spike and Buffy remained crouched against the wall, his coat providing both camouflage and shelter from the soft rain that was beginning to fall. Gradually they both straightened up, still pressed against the wall and, in Buffy's case, holding her breath. When Spike relaxed his immobile body and stood up completely straight, she risked a quick breath.

"Can you still hear them?"

He shook his head. "I can hear their voices, but they've gone inside and I can't catch what they're—" He stopped talking, dropping his hands to her shoulders to keep her still while he listened. When he finally relaxed again, he left his hands on her shoulders, still using his coat to shield them both.

"Okay, Slayer," he said, still whispering. His cool breath in her ear made Buffy shiver, which she chose to blame on the rain rather than Spike's proximity. "They've gone."

"Gone where?"

"Don't bloody know, do I?" His frustration was clear and Buffy tried to curb her normal impatience.

"Why not? Can't you hear them anymore?"

"No. They went into the middle of the building, and then they just disappeared. The only thing I could hear was machinery running."

"Machinery?"

"Yeah, Like... like a lift...." He dropped his hands from her shoulders and smacked them together. "That's it! I was underground—escaped through a tunnel. That chamber of horrors is underneath this place."

"There's an army base under a frat house?" Buffy's disbelief was clear.

"Soldiers, laboratories, don't know what all. That's where I was," he insisted, pointing across the lawn to the open space where she'd found him tearing at the sod only a few days ago. "A house that has sensors, don't forget—and guards that come out to see what's tripping them. All is not what it seems here, Slayer."

"I guess not," she reluctantly agreed, remembering the party she'd attended only a few weeks ago and all the "fraternity boys" she'd met with short, military haircuts and beepers.

Buffy shivered again as Spike moved away and his duster was no longer keeping the rain off. Without comment, he took off the coat and draped it over her shoulders, growling when she almost dropped it in surprise.

"What the—"

"Cold won't bother me," he said gruffly. "Just keep it on till we get back to... What are we going back to?" he said. "It's getting late. Watcher's liable to be asleep by now."

Buffy nodded and pulled the coat around her more tightly. It was much too long, and Spike's body hadn't warmed it, but it did keep her dry, so she gave him a grateful smile.

"We should go," she announced unnecessarily. "When we move we're going to trip those sensors again."

"Ready whenever you are, pet," he agreed. "Just tell me which way to run."

"My dorm is probably the closest place. Let's head there. It's that way," she added, pointing towards the main campus.

"I know where it is, Slayer."

"Oh, right. You've already been there. And Willow invited you in."

"Right hospitable, the witch is," he said, smiling in the dark at the irritated tone of her voice.

"Pretty dumb, is what she is," Buffy grumbled back. "Nobody who grew up in Sunnydale should—"

She stopped when Spike put a hand to her lips, pressing his fingers against them gently.

"Hear machinery again. Let's argue about this later."

Without reply, Buffy stepped away from the building and began darting from shadow to shadow until they were safely away and could take off running in a straight line. By the time lights came on in Lowell House, and raised voices were audible to Spike's ears, they were far enough away that they couldn't be seen or heard by anyone willing to venture out into the rain to see what had again tripped the sensors.

As soon as it seemed safe to do so, Buffy slowed down. While the long coat had protected her torso from the worst of the rain, it had kept wrapping itself around her legs and threatening to trip her as she tried to keep up with the racing vampire. She was now soaked from the knees down and her hair was plastered to her head. She watched as Spike slowed and turned to look for her.

"What's taking you so long?"

"Your coat is trying to make me fall down," she grumbled, pulling it around more tightly. "I can't run in it."

"It is a bit big on you," he said, cocking his head. "That other Sl—you know what? We should just get you inside where you can dry off and get warm."

Buffy trudged toward her dorm, her head down and shoulders hunched. She almost tripped over the threshold when she reached the main door to the dorm, ducking under Spike's arm as he held the door and sending him a bewildered glance.

He was all sweet and caring when we were under the spell. I guess I shouldn't be surprised to find out he has chivalrous streak underneath all that bleach and leather.

Spike had caught her surprised look and cursed under his breath.

"Right, then, Slayer," he said quickly. "You're all back safe and sound. You'll want to be getting out of those wet clothes and—"

Buffy let the coat slide off her arms, shivering as her bare arms were exposed.

"Here," she said, holding it out and waiting for him to take it. "Thank you. It was a very... nice thing to do."

"You're welcome," he muttered, staring at the floor and shuffling his feet. "Let's just keep this between us, yeah?"

Buffy studied his embarrassed face, nodding and smiling. "Okay, Big Bad. Your reputation is safe with me."

She rubbed her arms, shivering again as the cool air in the lobby made her aware of her wet pants clinging to her legs and the water trickling down her neck from her hair. She noticed that Spike wasn't putting his coat on, just draping it over an arm and realized that, while she was only wet from the knees down and her hair, Spike was soaked from head to toe. She reached a hand to his arm, recoiling from the cold, wet flesh there.

"You're soaked! And cold!"

He shrugged. "Won't kill me. I'll dry off at a bar somewhere."

Buffy chewed her lip, then blurted, "Why don't you come upstairs and dry off? I have towels."

It was hard to say which of them was the most surprised by her offer. Their eyes darted around the deserted lobby, afraid to meet and possibly share information neither wanted the other to have. After a short silence, Spike cleared his throat and said, "Er... um... that... that would be... "

Before he could finish his stumbling response, Buffy turned and pushed open the door to the stairwell, not looking back to see if he was following or not. Only the sound of his heavy boots on the metal stairs told her he was climbing behind her.

Who knew the fastest way to shut Spike up was to be nice to him?

Buffy used her key to open the dorm room and quickly looked around to see if Willow was there. She breathed a sigh of relief at finding the room empty, not really having thought far enough ahead to how she would have explained bringing Spike in with her. She pulled some towels from a drawer and handed them to him.

"Here. You can use these to dry off. I can't do anything about your clothes, but...."

"I'll be fine, pet," he said, the warmth in his eyes making her blush and look away. "Just let me get dry enough that I won't make the lining of my coat wet, and I'll be on my way."

"Okay, well, I'm just going to..." Buffy grabbed her robe and another towel, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the communal bathrooms. Without explaining, she slipped out the door and ran to take a hot shower. The showers were deserted that late at night and she had them to herself as she let the hot water run over her body and warm her up. When she had stopped shivering and had washed and dried her hair, she wrapped up in the robe and hastened back to her room. The possible consequences of leaving Spike alone in her room were just beginning to sink in and she was already scolding herself when she opened the door to find him whirling in surprise, his shirt in his hand and his bare chest gleaming in the soft light from the desk lamp.

"Guh."

"Sorry, luv," he said, fighting back a smirk. "Thought I might get it to dry faster if I took it off. I'll just—"

He went to pull the wet shirt on, stopping when Buffy said quickly, "No. That's a good idea. Here, let me have it. I'll just hang it up over the vent and...." She took the wet shirt from him, her fingers brushing his still icy hand as she did so. Suddenly very conscious of the lack of clothing underneath her robe, she turned her back and went to the closet for a hanger. Still avoiding his amused gaze, she put the tee shirt on the hanger and hooked it over the curtain rod above the vent near the window.

"Want to hang my pants up too?" he purred, running his hand over the zipper and waiting for her to cast horrified eyes at him.

"Don't push it, Spike," she said, her flushed cheeks taking the force out of her words. To her surprise, he didn't, just nodded and walked over to Willow's bed. He carefully put down a dry towel; then stretched out with his hands behind his head, giving Buffy a good look at his chiseled chest, bulging biceps and six-pack abs. His jeans were riding just low enough for her to get a glimpse of light brown hair peeping over the top.

Irritated that he knew she was staring and responding to his blatant sexuality, she muttered to herself and began to plan her revenge. Two can play at this game, vampire. Stretching her arms over her head theatrically, Buffy grabbed the front of her robe just before it gaped open. "Oops! I almost flashed you! Bad Buffy."

Ignoring Spike's growl, she pulled her most modest pajamas from a drawer and made a big show of putting the bottoms on under the robe, wriggling her hips as she pulled them up. She struggled for several minutes, trying to get into the long-sleeved tee shirt top without actually taking off the robe, before Spike growled again, saying, "Just put the bloody thing on, Slayer. I've got my eyes closed."

She risked a glance at the other bed, only to find that he had his back completely turned to her. Giving a disappointed sniff, she dropped the robe and held the shirt while she studied her reflection in the mirror over Willow's dresser, fluffing her hair and frowning at her small breasts. Satisfied that she had stalled long enough, she pulled the shirt over her head and tugged it into place, glancing at her reflection again before turning away. She was just picking up her robe when she heard a snort from Spike and realized that his shoulders were shaking.

Her eyes flew to the mirror, seeing nothing but her own reflection and Willow's empty bed... the bed that was shaking with the laughter now coming openly from the vampire lying on it.

"Oh! You...you..." Torn between fury and embarrassment, Buffy sputtered while Spike rolled over and leered at her.

"What kind of slayer can't remember that vampires have no reflection?" he chortled, looking much too pleased with himself to suit her.

"The kind that thinks she can trust... Never mind, I should have know better," she snapped, turning her back so that he couldn't see the disappointment on her flaming face.

There was heavy silence broken only by Buffy's angry breathing; and then he was there. She could feel him right behind her, could see from the corner of her eye, the hand hovering uncertainly over her shoulder. Buffy held herself rigid, refusing to acknowledge his presence even as every sense she had was screaming that there was a vampire within striking distance. Eventually he gave an audible sigh and moved away.

"I'm sorry. You're right to be angry." His soft voice caught her by surprise; she twitched, but didn't respond. "I'll just go."

She heard him walk to the window and take his shirt off the hanger, resolutely keeping her back to him until she heard the rustle of leather. Turning around slowly, she caught him looking at her with eyes that held more regret than she would have thought possible for a creature that had no soul.

"Wh—where are you going?"

He shrugged. "Demon bars are open all night. Cemeteries are full of crypts whose owners aren't in a position to complain about guests. I'll find some place to bed down for the day. You need to get some sleep, anyway," he added. "It's been a long night."

Buffy nodded and tried to smother a yawn. "I do have classes tomorrow," she admitted. "I should probably try to wake up early enough to go to at least one of them. Although I'm not sure I can look at Professor Walsh quite the same way now...."

"Think you ought to stay as far away from that bitch as you can, Slayer," Spike said, taking a step closer to her. "Her and her overfed soldiers."

"They aren't going to hurt me, Spike. I'm not a vampire or a demon."

"You're not the average co-ed either, luv," he insisted. "If you think they won't want to take you apart and learn what makes you tick, you—"

"Stop worrying about me!" she said, more emphatically than she'd meant to. His face closed down and the concerned expression disappeared as he stepped back.

"Right, then. No skin off my nose, is it?" He spun around on his heel, already moving toward the door when Buffy's voice and her hand on his arm stopped him.

"Spike? I'm... I'm sorry. I didn't mean that the way... I'm sorry," she finished lamely. "It's just so... weird... that you're being so... and there's no spell now, so I...." She bit her lip and shook her head. "I just don't know how to talk to you anymore. You're so different sometimes, and I...."

"And you miss the old, evil, wants-to kill-you me?" he guessed, his face giving away nothing.

"No!" She lowered her voice. "No, I don't miss him. He's... he was a pig and evil and a killer and... evil...." Her voice trailed off. "I just don't know what to do with this new you."

"Want some suggestions?" he said, regaining much of his swagger and moving closer to her. He wiggled his eyebrows and gave her one of his best leers.

Buffy giggled in spite of herself. "See? That's more like it. That I know how to handle." She blushed and tensed, waiting for him to jump on her unfortunate choice of words. To her surprise he didn't come back with suggestions for what she could handle. Instead, his expression softened and he ghosted one hand over her face.

"Don't think you could learn to handle a new me?" he asked.

"Is this a new you? Or just a side of Spike I never got to see before?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, pet. Turning that ponce, William, into a vampire was a pretty major transformation. I worked hard at it. Used to make Angelus crazy when he thought I was too soft. Did a pretty good job of beating it out me, he did. But old William used to raise his head every once in a while."

He cocked his head and smiled at her. "I think Red's spell might have given him something of a wake-up call."

At a loss for what to say next, Buffy just moved away from him and gestured around the room until she could think of something to say.

"Why don't you just stay here," she said finally, pointing to Willow's bed. "It's dry and warm, and there's a comfy bed."

"Can't do that, pet," he said mildly.

"Why not?" Buffy's voice couldn't hide her annoyance at having her hospitable gesture ignored.

"Couple of reasons," he said, moving into her space and smiling when she backed up. "First place, I'd have to stay all day, and you don't even have decent curtains on those windows."

Buffy gave a guilty flinch as she glanced at the windows with their slatted blinds and dime store curtains.

"And in the second place?" she demanded, determined to have the last word.

Instead of answering her, he dipped his head and inhaled deeply as he ran his lips over her neck. Before she could react with anything dust threatening, he stepped back and said, "William's not always around, luv. And Spike doesn't want to snooze over there while you're lying over here... all warm and fragrant and..."

"Ewwww, Spike!"

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Thanks for the offer, pet, but my common sense says you and me sleeping in the same small room is just not a good plan. Not good for either one of us, I expect." That was as close as he was willing to come to admitting that her increased heart rate and growing arousal were as plain to him as was the confusion on her face. "Get some sleep, luv. I'll catch up with you tomorrow night and we'll see if we can figure out where that back entrance is, yeah?"

Too bewildered by her body's reaction to having Spike's lips on her neck to pay much attention to him, Buffy just nodded and followed him to the door. When he had left with a quiet, "Sleep well, Slayer," she closed and locked it, then wandered back toward her bed, turning off the desk lamp without really seeing it. She climbed into bed and pulled the covers up, quickly falling into a dreamless sleep.

 
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